small things

he has a short
tale
of woe, but repeats
it every
day, every
chance he can
on the phone.
small things,
small irritants
in the corner of
his eye.
the stubbed
toe,
the cold coffee,
the traffic
jam
on route fifty.
you listen
and listen and
listen,
saying things
like that's a
shame,
too bad. but
he goes on
about how they
bagged
his groceries
wrong. who puts
bananas in with
the bleach?